


It’s Us Who Own the Apocalypse

by hithelleth



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, no blackout
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 06:15:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 6,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7211201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hithelleth/pseuds/hithelleth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A family, albeit connected by the strangest mix of ties; two decades old conspiracy waiting to end in a disaster if they don't stop it; and all the (or up to 60) moods of summer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Traditions

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what I’m doing, except that I’ve been too tempted by the [60 Moods of Summer](http://theorgyarmada.tumblr.com/post/145424509259/your-summer-challenge-armada) prompts to leave them alone. Chapters titles from the prompt words. 
> 
> I’m thinking about updating this once a week (hopefully) with a chapter about this length. Category, characters, pairings, and tags will be added to as needed.

_2030_

For the umpteenth time in her life, Rachel regrets getting involved with the goddamn DOD – and for the umpteenth time as well, she acknowledges that she would have done it again if it meant saving Danny – when she almost stumbles into her office from yet another meeting in which she had to fight tooth-and-nail against the bastards trying to use her work for their nefarious purposes.

She won, of course, another one in an endless cycle of battles. There will be another one tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and she will fight them all until… Well, she keeps that part of her plans hidden close to her heart. But one day, one day she will fix her mistake, end the threat she birthed.

For now though, there is a pile of work waiting on her desk. But first, she kicks off her heels and dumps her purse and laptop bag and files on the cabinet behind the desk and sinks into her chair, closing her eyes as she takes a sip from the coffee cup in her hand. Five minutes, she can afford herself that, before diving back into work.

It is only when her paper cup is empty and discarded in the waste bin and she turns to her desk, sitting up with a sigh to get to work, when she sees it: a seashell, pearly white with brown streaks, resting on top of a stack of documents. There’s a card underneath.

 _First day of summer_ , it says.

_BBQ at Ben’s, 19.00, don’t bring anything (except those ~~awful~~ delicious princess doughnuts you’ll pick up at the gas-station as usually._ _☺)_

_And FFS, it’s Friday, Rachel, you’re _NOT _going to the office till Monday and I WILL make you relax (that’s a promise.)_

_♥_

Rachel rolls her eyes but can’t keep from smiling as she reaches for the seashell, twirling it between her fingers and briefly putting it to hear ear to listen to the soft song of ocean waves inside it, thinking back to a summer afternoon on the beach, before she places it in the jar with 24 others, one for every first day of summer in just as many years.

She digs her phone out of her purse, glancing at the clock – it’s four already, damn it – and shoots off a quick text.

_C U in 3. (I’ll hold you to that.)_

Then she grabs the first file from the stack and gets back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why, yes, I’m going to keep you guessing who the other person is, because I’m evil. ;)
> 
> Please, do not hesitate to tell me what you think, comments are always welcome!


	2. Exhale

There is someone in the apartment; Kelly can tell that the moment she opens the door. She curses in her head – there goes the quiet evening she was hoping for, and, damn, this is going to be a long week, judging by the Monday – and uses the noise she makes while closing the door to pull her gun out of her purse.

She hits the light switch, ignoring the discomfort as her eyes adjust to the light, and aims her weapon at the intruder. Who barely flinches, wincing into the light, and grumbles: “Put the gun down, Kelly, it’s just me.”

Her shoulders slump with an audible exhale, but she glares at the man sprawled in the armchair in her living room.

“Jesus, Miles,” she hisses, trying to calm her racing hart, “I could’ve shot you.”

Miles shrugs. “Nah, you’ve had your safety on. And, well, may I remind you we said we can’t be seen together, because, I quote ‘that could compromise the entire operation’, end of quote. So I used the fire exit like you told me. Which is a crap load of stairs that I’m getting too old for.”

Kelly rolls her eyes at the voice Miles makes impersonating her and puts her gun back to its place, stepping out of her pumps at the same time.

“Right,” she snorts. Then she quirks her eyebrow at him. “You’re _quoting_ me now? Who are you and what have you done to Miles Matheson?”

“Hey!” Miles objects. Then he grins. “I’ve just spent the whole weekend with a bunch of nerds-slash-geniuses, must’ve brushed off on me. By the way, you’ve run out of whiskey,” he adds.

“Now, that’s more like the Miles I know,” Kelly smiles. “But since it’s you who drinks most of it, buy your own,” she suggests, as she pads over to him.

She sinks onto his lap and rests her forehead against his, sighing as he wraps his arms around her.

“Hey,” says Miles, more gently than most people would consider him capable of.

“Hey,” she returns.

“Not a good day?” he inquires.

“Well, the best part of it was imagining all the ways I could make Flynn stop running his smooth tongue,” Kelly scowls.

Miles laughs, his breath tickling the skin on her neck, and she snuggles more comfortably against him and asks in turn: “So, how was your weekend?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I've just added another ship to the armada. ;)
> 
> Please do tell me what you think, comments are always welcome.


	3. Rescue

“Do you want the good news or the bad news first?” Jeremy asks after closing the office door behind Duncan. “Don’t worry, we can talk. I’ve just done a bug sweep,” he adds, waving around the room.

“Can’t be too careful,” Duncan agrees, taking a seat in front of his desk. “So?”

“Well, the good news is Neville’s kid is now working with us.”

Duncan frowns. “That’s the _good_ news?”

“Yep.” Jeremy sighs, walking around the desk to sit down in his chair. “The bad news is that the agenda seems to be even bigger than we’d thought, running all the way up to Davis.”

“The vice-president Davis?” Duncan asks, leaning forward in her seat.

Jeremy mimics her, propping his elbows on his desk. “Remember Jason disappeared for a couple of weeks, about a year ago?”

She nods.

“Well, it seems these bastards are using kids to create some sort-of-brainwashed soldiers. They pump them with drugs, put them through what’s basically torture, drill an auto-obedient response into them, but you’ll have to ask Rachel or someone about the science of it,” Jeremy explains.

“And Neville Jr. learned about his how?” Duncan asks

“Apparently, he noticed some young cadets – troubled kids – at Valley Forge disappear. He started snooping around when the higher-ups waved it off and got snatched himself. Tom got him out, weaned him off cold-turkey, brought him back to himself… The resignation and rehab was a cover-up – I figure they’re leaving it at that because otherwise they would’ve given themselves away too soon,” Jeremy elaborates.

“So, we’ll just take Jason’s word for it?” Duncan questions.

“Actually,” Jeremy says, “He has documentation – which has Davis’s name all over it, by the way – that backs his tale, and I double-checked, as far as I could. It seems these fuckers are indoctrinating kids from all over the country, and who knows how many people are involved either willingly or without even knowing what they got themselves into.”

“Wow.” Duncan slumps back in her chair.

“Yeah.”

They sit in silence while Duncan mulls over the information. Then she asks: “What about Tom, does he now know about what we’re doing?”

“Hell, no. He might come in handy, though,” Jeremy says.

“You’d trust him?” Duncan grimaces.

Jeremy shakes his head. “Not in the least. But I think we can trust his love for Julia and the kid and Julia’s love for her status and commodities. So, if – when shit hits the fan, the Nevilles could be useful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was very loosely based around ‘rescue’ prompt relating to Jason’s story. 
> 
> I forgot what Davis’ function in the pre-Blackout government was and I couldn’t find the information anywhere, but didn’t feel like re-watching. If anyone remembers, feel free to correct me. Otherwise, this is an AU for a reason, so he can just as well be the VP. 
> 
> I know this is probably confusing but I have a plan about how I intend to reveal everyone’s connections and roles. Hopefully I’ll manage to make it all work out. 
> 
> Please do tell me what you think, comments are always welcome.


	4. Swing Set

Danny swears, almost falling off the sturdy old swing set as Charlie sneaks up on him, booing, but can’t help join her laughter as she plops down on the swing next to him, promptly snatching his phone.

“Hey, give it back!” he protests.

“Uh-uh,” Charlie holds the phone away from him, peering at it. “Oh my God, texting with Heather again?” she teases.

“It’s none of your business,” Danny grumbles. “Now, give it back!” he demands.

Charlie rolls her eyes but hands over the phone, nonetheless.

“You two are pretty serious, huh?” Charlie enquires. “I thought your Christmas romance would’ve cooled off by now.”

She giggles again as he blushes, pushing himself off the ground to swing lightly back and forth instead of responding.

“Oh, come on, I think it’s sweet,” Charlie bumps his shoulder with her fist and then ruffles his hair.

“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Danny mumbles, fiddling with his phone. He holds back the _‘You’re the one to talk’_ that’s on the tip of his tongue.

“Um, so, I think those assholes from DOD got to Grandpa,” he says instead.

Charlie scrunches her nose. “Grandpa Porter?”

Danny angles his phone so Charlie can see the picture he pulled up.

“Well, this guy showed up at his place twice in the last week and once before, and there was this other guy with him once,” he pulls up another picture as he speaks, “and Heather says her Dad’s seen him around before, too.”

Charlie worries her lip, narrowing her eyes as she studies the photos, then turns to look at him.

“You have Heather spying on Grandpa?”

Danny scoffs. “She’s not spying. Just taking notice of suspicious stuff, considering. And you gotta say these guys look suspicious.”

Charlie hums. “Why didn’t she say something before? Why didn’t you?” she demands.

Danny shakes his head. “Can’t panic every time anyone as much as looks at any of us once, but when it starts repeating… Besides, we didn’t know whether our parents and everyone were colluding with the bad guys or not before last week, did we?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Charlie admits. “But maybe it’s nothing; they could be just patients?”

“Really? Do they look like the usual Willoughby types to hang around there?” Danny raises his eyebrows, shaking his phone for emphasis. “Besides, Heather heard Grandpa refer to the bald skinny one as ‘Doctor’”.

“Maybe Grandpa’s thinking of retiring and selling his practice?” Charlie wonders.

“He could be,” Danny agrees. “But I don’t think this guy would set up shop in Willoughby.”

Charlie looks at the photo again and nods.

Danny sighs. “I guess we should tell Mom and Dad and the others.”

“Wait,” Charlie shakes her head, taking her phone out of her pocket. “Send them over,” she says, “Jeremy and I can first check who these guys are tomorrow, and then we’ll see if it’s something to worry about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another ship for the armada. (Which already existed, I've just noticed.) :D
> 
> Feel free to tell me what you think, comments are always welcome.


	5. Backyard

Ben can’t help but smile as he looks out into the backyard where Danny and Charlie are sitting on the swings, arguing and whispering as if they were five instead of past twenty.

“Some things never change.” Maggie says, coming up behind him.

Ben sighs. “I just wish they weren’t involved in all this,” he says.

“They’ve always been involved. We just thought they didn’t know about it,” Maggie counters.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Ben agrees. He sits down on the couch, shaking his head. “I almost had a stroke when they ambushed us on Saturday.”

_They were in the basement, going over the pieces of the plan falling into place and amending the details._

_“It all has to go,” Bass emphasised, “it is all pointless if they retain any data whatsoever. That means no backup copies of your darling projects.”_

_“We’re sure no one will change their mind? Sell themselves and all of us out?” Miles grimaced._

_“None of us is willing to let these bastards execute their plans with_ our _work. They’d used us enough as it is. We’ll think of something else to help people, after we’re done with this,” Ben assured him._

_“Besides, Jeremy is keeping an eye on everyone, present company included, right?” Rachel raised an eyebrow at the man in question, not really asking._

_Jeremy nodded, “I sure am.”_

_Aaron sighed. “That only leaves me getting to all the company servers before anyone notices. It’ll be tight.”_

_“I can help with that.”_

_Everyone jumped in their seats when Danny spoke, descending the stairs to the basement, Charlie, Connor, and Jason following behind him._

_“I mean, since I’m the reason the government got their hooks on you, which we’ll talk about later, Mom.” Danny sat down beside Rachel, squeezing her hand. “They won’t turn off the power for good on my account. By the way, you should hear what Jason has to tell,” he added._

The kids had the audacity to laugh as everyone gaped while they explained themselves, and Ben shakes his head at the memory.

“To think they found out about it all because Danny’d hacked into the company servers to free up Rachel’s schedule for his birthday, and that they’ve been spying on us ever since, suspecting us of foul play…” Ben lets out a huff.

Maggie sits down beside him, rubbing his shoulder.

“I’m just scared, you know,” he admits. “It was easier to pretend they were safe, when I thought they didn’t know.”

“I know,” Maggie gives him a wistful smile. “The only good thing about being away from Elliot and Callum is that they don’t have to worry about the impending end of the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive any typos (and feel free to point them out). I decided to publish so I can feel accomplished at the end of the day. ~~(Also, because my other fic I published today will get zero attention. But I wrote it for my soul. Not that I didn't this one, but you know... :)~~ )
> 
> Comments are always welcome, so please, tell me what you think.


	6. Interlaced Fingers

Charlie kisses the corner of his mouth as a way of greeting, smirking as his eyes slide too deep down where she has popped open an extra button on her blouse.

Jason has the decency to blush at being caught, but whispers “tease” in her ear, and she giggles as she intertwines her fingers with his and leads him towards the diner two blocks down.

“Come on, Connor is waiting for us,” she says.

Connor stands up from the booth he has secured in the corner when they arrive. Charlie turns her head the last second so Connor’s kiss lands on her cheek instead of on her lips – at which Connor scowls, but without any heat behind it – and then plants a kiss on Connor’s cheek in turn.

He and Connor hug, and Jason lingers in the other man’s warmth perhaps a few moments too long for most people’s taste – not that any of them cares what anyone thinks, before they take their seats.

Charlie eyes glint with mischief as she slides in the back of the booth to sit between them.

She is a vision in her pencil skirt and white blouse, but so she is in everything from faded jeans and oversized T-shirts to combat gear.

Charlie is in a playful mood, though, flaunting her dark lipstick, the hair she let down to fall so temptingly to the swell of her breast, and the hint of perfume she is wearing, knowing fully well what she does to them on a regular basis without even trying and thus sometimes, like tonight, _trying_ just for fun.

She flirts shamelessly, and Jason lets Connor flirt back on his own, smiling, too content with just being there to engage in their banter. A deep sense of happiness settles in his heart, gratitude that he found this, them. With them he can forget about the tinge behind his eyelid, their presence chasing away the darkness that closes around him inside the barrel…

“Hey, Jason, you with us?” Charlie’s fingers squeeze his, and Connor’s leg presses against his under the table.

He shakes his head, fending off the ever-lurking terror. “I’m here,” Jason says quietly as the waitress approaches.

After they order, the two drag him into their flirting throughout the meal, their arms and legs brushing against each other’s, comforting and exciting at once.

They take the dessert to go, walking to Charlie’s apartment, her fingers interlaced with his and Connor’s arm around her waist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you didn't expect Jarlett from me. ;) But I fell in love with it long ago, because of certain fics, so here, have something fun (sort of) for a bit of a break between conspiracies and all. ;)
> 
> Comments are always welcome, so feel free to tell me what you think.


	7. Fireflies

“Don't do that.”

“Hey, boss.” Will doesn't look up at the voice, reaching for a paper towel to clear the remains of the bug he has squashed off the bar. “Don't do what?”

“Kill fireflies.” Miles shrugs. “It’s bad luck or something.”

“Huh,” Will grunts.

“How were things around here?” Miles enquires, making his way behind the bar and throwing his travel bag through the door into hallway leading into the back.

“The usual,” Will replies, proceeding to wipe the bar with a wet cloth.

It is the same old folks coming to the joint – including an eye-patch guy who gets hauled out by his hunky blonde grandson most nights – just as inclined to talk as Miles himself, that is, not at all. Will can manage the job – pouring drinks and cleaning – just fine on his own whenever Miles goes out of town. Although, Miles probably has the other bartender, Jeff, whom he hired to ‘class up the joint’ and give Will a few nights off – even though on his time off Will just sits on the other side of the bar and drinks – spying on him.

Not that he can complain. Without Miles giving him a job and a room he would be under a bridge somewhere or back in prison.

“How’s the old gang?” Will asks, as Miles fixes himself a drink.

“Good. They’re sending their regards.”

“Thanks,” Will grumbles. He glances at the picture framed on the back wall from the corner of his eye.

They are all there, in dessert uniforms, sand and sun-burned old buildings in the background. He and Neville are the oldest, standing on either side, with Foster, Page, and Clayton squatting down and Matheson, Monroe, and Baker standing behind them, all grinning as if they weren’t at war in a dessert hell with suicidal bombers behind every corner.

The war fucked them up. It messed up his mind; although, he had been fucked up before. All the mandatory counselling in jail made him understand that, that the things he thought up, what he did, especially to _that_ girl, were wrong. They had still felt good, though.

Not that he is thinking anything like that now. Miles made it clear when he took him in: _“No funny business, Sarge, or I’ll turn you in myself.”_

He has no wish to go back. Fifteen years inside weren’t peachy – not with his record. He doesn’t even look at peaches now, not on purpose (except maybe sometimes), who come in to ogle young Jeff and spend their money on getting wasted, because Miles is protective as hell of peaches. It must be that niece of his. She is a peach, too –

Will stops the train of thought right there. If Miles only suspected what Will might be thinking… Going back to the can would be the least of his problems, because Miles would probably hang him by his guts while he was still breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this fic Nora is old enough to have served with the rest, because if canon can have her be 12 at the time of Blackout (as per the writers, which is nonsense; I mean, look at her in the flashbacks, how is she 12?), I can age her in fic. ;)
> 
> So, what did you think? Good, bad? Comments are always welcome.


	8. Lightning

The alarm beeps at an ungodly hour and by the time Duncan bothers to squint at the offending device which says 4.31 AM, the warm body sleeping next to her has already slipped soundlessly from the bed and the shower in the bathroom turned on.

Despite the early summer, it is still dark outside at this hour, but there are clouds drawing in from the horizon, lightning splitting the night now and again, the incoming storm heralded far ahead by echoing thunder. Still, Duncan would have most likely slept through the tempest, even through the incessant alarm, if not for the emptiness left behind her... lover.

(Girlfriend seems an inadequate term, after so long and everything they have been through and with all they are. She has never understood why ‘lover’ is a word used to describe something shallow or only – she scoffs inwardly – sexual. It has ‘love’ in it, doesn’t it?)

“I wish this crap was over with already and we didn’t have to sneak around,” Duncan grumbles when the shower turns off and she hears bare feet pad back into the bedroom.

“I know, honey. Me, too.” Nora sits down on the bed, leaning over for a kiss. Duncan moans in appreciation as their lips meet, soft and sweet, the scent of Nora’s orange flower shampoo enveloping her. Duncan slides her hands up Nora’s sides, humming at the feel of silky skin, then caresses her breasts, but Nora breaks away when Duncan flicks her thumbs over her nipples.

“Gotta be on base by 5.30 if I don’t wanna get caught,” she reminds her, pulling on her underwear.

“Tell me again, why we can’t just blow up all the shit and be done with it?” Duncan asks, knowing the answer very well.

“Because we don’t wanna actually kill people and go to prison?” Nora points out.

“Uh.” Duncan watches her through half-closed eyelids as Nora puts the rest of her clothes on and pulls her hair into a tight bun. “You could be my prison sugar mama,” she jokes.

Nora laughs. “Or you mine.” She sits on the bed to tie her shoes and then leans in for another kiss.

“Look, things are coming along nicely. We’ll get proof about all the bastards involved and ruin their plans and then I’ll retire and maybe find some way to blow shit up legally as a civilian and we’ll be able to walk down the promenade holding hands or something, okay?”

Duncan giggles at the image, chasing Nora’s lips for another kiss, then lets her head fall back on the pillow. “I’ll hold you to that, babe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this makes up for a little longer wait between the chapters. Juggling several WIPs at a time is hard. 
> 
> Do tell me what you think, comments are always welcome.


	9. Rage

_Charlie raised her eyebrows at Rachel’s suitcase as Connor lugged it to the car. “We’re going on a weekend trip to Grandpa’s, not on a two-week luxury vacation in Europe, Mom.”_

_“I just like to be prepared,” Rachel returned._

_Despite the statement, she obviously wasn’t prepared for everything. What landing in sweltering Austin and the long drive did, however, prep her for was to explode upon Grandpa’s reveal that he had been spying on her for the better part of two decades._

“How could he do this to me?! My own father!”

Charlie leans against the bottom post of the porch steps railing, watching her mother pace the backyard while seething. On occasion she steals a glance back inside the living room where her grandfather is slumped in an armchair with his head in his hands.

“Look, it doesn’t make it right, but I really think Grandpa just tried to do what he thought was best for everyone,” Charlie tries, after Rachel finally sits down on the bottom stair, having apparently exhausted herself.

Charlie has come along with Rachel both to look after her and be the voice of reason. She expected she would need to keep Rachel from falling for the excuses Grandpa would give her, not to defend him.

_“I didn’t want to drop your mother’s cancer on you just after everything you’d got through with Danny, and he still wasn’t entirely out of the woods at the time. They offered an experimental treatment for her and additional funds for the town clinic, and it needed every penny, especially when measles broke out right after that flu epidemic,” Gene explained. “And they said it could be a matter of national security, of public health, if someone with bad intentions got to you with what you were working on. Please, Rachel,” Grandpa implored._

Charlie sits down next to her Mom, reaching over to pat her back, albeit with a bit of caution.

“He couldn’t know they were the bad guys any more than you did,” she says.

Rachel shakes her head, sighing. “Yeah, you’re right.” She pauses. “And not. I knew. I knew DOD was bad news. For god’s sake, before we learned about Danny, _I_ ’d been trying to talk your Dad out of doing business with them. I disregarded my misgivings because I was selfish. I shouldn’t –“

“Don’t ever say that,” Charlie interrupts her. “I wish you hadn’t made something they can basically end the world with but… I can’t imagine my life without Danny.”

To Charlie’s surprise, Rachel pulls her into a hug and Charlie squeezes her back. She offers Rachel a hand after extricating herself and standing up. “Come on, let’s go inside and try to figure out what to do now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feel free to tell me what you think, comments are never not welcome.


	10. Cotton Candy

_Hey, stranger. Saw your sister in town today. Who’s the hottie who bought her cotton candy?_

**_Really?_ **

_What?_

**_IDK where to begin._ **

_I guess Charlie was in town because of those guys visiting your grandpa I told you about?_

**_Is that how you gonna play it?_ **

_???_

**_Fine._ **

**_Yeah. Charlie and Mom went down for the weekend to see what’s up. Turns up they’ve been bribing grandpa to spy on mom, allegedly b/c of her work._ **

**_BTW, that bald guy was from CDC. No surprise._ **

_You think he’s got to do something with what they did to Dillon?_

**_Probably._ **

**_Also, hey, you don’t need any shots, do you?_ **

_????_

**_Just don’t do it in Willoughby, okay? Apparently this dr. Horn also supplies Grandpa’s clinic with flu shots and stuff and mom suspects they might be tampered with._ **

_WTF?_

**_Yeah, she’s taken some samples and will try to have one of her friends test them. But maybe they like slipped bioweapon stuff in them, like to test it? Dunno._ **

_Geez. So now we can’t even trust doctors? Hey, so I’m not gonna ask what your mom’s doing but it’s all connected, right? I mean, kids like Dillon and bioweapons and all?_

**_I think so. My parents & co. do, too._ **

_Shit._

**_Yeah._ **

**_BTW, we’re calling these guys the Patriots now. You know._ **

_Because they are so “Patriotic”?_

**_;)_ **

_What’s your mom gonna do now? About your grandpa? Is that why Charlie is staying?_

**_Yeah, but only to help him clean and pack… and he’s gotta find a replacement._ **

**_They decided he should move up here – spinning it like he wants to be closer to the family and TX weather not agreeing with his health._ **

**_They think the Pats won’t mind…_ **

**_The plan’s to say he can spy more easily on Mom if he’s closer, but Mom & co. gonna keep an eye on him and have him feed the right info to them._ **

_Oh. That’s a good idea, actually._

**_Just don’t tell anyone._ **

_Duh._

_…_

_Um, so I wanted to tell you NYU accepted to cover my tuition if I transfer and they’d invited me to come up and have a tour and meet with them._

**_That’s great!_ **

**_When are you coming?_ **

_The week after the 4 th. _

**_Cool._ **

**_Maybe we can meet? BTW, stop ogling Charlie’s bf._ **

_I wasn’t… It was just a normal human observation._

**_You are aware of their other ninja super soldier bf – seems to me he could be of the jealous type._ **

_THEIR OTHER bf? That’s for real?_

**_We’re fucked up family. Better get used to it._ **

_Don’t know. Might need some convincing it’d be worth it._

**_I’ll buy you cotton candy. :D_ **

_Gonna take more than that. A good start, tho. TTYL?_

**_K. TTYL._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried something new. If it wasn’t obvious, this is supposed to be texting. Danny’s is in bold. It would be better with emoticons, but I'm too lazy to copy-paste and format stuff beyond what's absolutely necessary. Not sure if this is how kids would text these days (much less in 15 years, lol. I hope I at least somewhat got their voices right.
> 
> Please, don’t hesitate to tell me what you think, comments are always welcome.


	11. Sunset and Crickets

Connor plops down on the porch steps beside Charlie after dinner, passing her one of the two beer bottles he has brought from the fridge.

After a while of just sitting and drinking in silence, Charlie lets out a loud sigh and leans into his side, dropping her head on his shoulder.

He can’t stop himself from smiling to himself, before he teases her lightly, “Does that mean you've stopped moping about me coming out here?”

_When Rachel had to return home on Sunday, Charlie insisted she could deal with Gene on her own – thank you very much – while Ben and Rachel threw “we’re-dealing with monsters who don’t pick means and it isn't safe for any of us to be alone, Charlie,” and, “for god’s sake, yes, we know you’re a big girl and you can take care of yourself, but can’t you just listen for once for our piece of mind?” arguments at her._

_Connor was in Jeremy’s office listening while the boss had the conference call on speaker, hardly getting a word into the Mathesons’ arguing, but tremendously enjoying himself, nevertheless._

_It was Jeremy who suggested Connor going out to Texas after Rachel had updated them on the situation. When he pointed out spending a few romantic days with her boyfriend at her grandpa’s would be a good cover, Charlie begrudgingly gave in, but she has still glared at Connor half the time since he arrived, at least when they weren’t in public._

Charlie grumbles something unintelligible, now, and then concedes, “Well, I guess you’ve been kinda useful with moving all those boxes in the attic.”

Connor laughs. “Gee, thanks. Glad to be appreciated. Makes the pain worth it.”

Because, damn, there were a lot of boxes and he does somewhat hurt all over, but he guesses Charlie is no better off, since she more than pulled her share of work while bossing him around – which is still the hottest thing in the word he can’t get tired of seeing.

They sit quietly as Charlie snuggles more comfortably against him, watching the sun set while the crickets tirelessly chirp away.

“Once this crap is over we should bring Jason here some time,” Connor says. “I think he’d like it here, the peace and quiet.”

Charlie angles her head so she can arch an eyebrow at him, then shakes her head. “Christ, you’re such a sap.”

She is smiling, though, and he puts an arm around her, pulling her closer.

“Well, one of us has to be,” he returns.

The retort he expects doesn’t come. Instead Charlie hums something in response and closes her eyes, and, well, if he is a sap, he doesn’t think that is a bad thing in this case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been distracted by my other WIP(s) and I've also been feeling generally bummed and uninspired and so it's been two weeks since I last updated this, so sorry about that. 
> 
> Please, don't hesitate to tell me what you think, comments are always welcome.


	12. Sunshine

“Honey, I'm home!” Jeremy announces, teasing, as he closes the front door behind himself and then promptly flinches when a pen flies in his general direction, hitting the hallway wall and landing on the floor.

“Okay?” he questions, peeking into the common area. _He hasn't done anything, has he? Nope, nothing comes to mind._

“Sorry,” Emma mutters from the dining table, strewn with landscaping designs. She glances at him with a sheepish smile before returning her attention to the laptop in front of her. “Give me half an hour to finish this.”

_Oh, thank God._

“Sure,” he agrees out loud and turns around to go get changed.

“You can start on the dinner!” Emma calls after him.

“Yes, sir.” Jeremy grins, unable to resist teasing her further.

The unmistakable sound of another object landing on the floor somewhere – she’s soon going to run out of writing utensils at hand by this rate – makes him laugh, and out of sight, he can hear Emma giggle as well.

***

“So, what’s the rush?” Jeremy asks when they later sit down for dinner on the back porch. The evening sun is pleasantly warm instead of scorching, although the sunrays escaping through tree leaves that make up interesting patterns everywhere are forcing him to squint at her. 

“I’m trying to finish the Fabers' garden on time.”

Jeremy scoffs. “I'm sure they would give you an extension if you asked.”

Emma scrunches her nose. “Probably. But I don’t want to make it look like I’m taking the job easy because I got it through a friend. I don’t want to screw up particularly because Bass recommended me. Now’s not the time for making a bad impression that would reflect back on him. Especially since it seems the Fabers aren't corrupt and we could use anyone we can get on our side, right?”

Jeremy can’t argue with that reasoning. He nods, sighing as he sags against the backrest.

“Rough day?” Emma inquires.

“You could say that.” Jeremy groans. “All else aside, Duncan was even less of a Monday person today than usually and with both Charlie and Connor gone it was me who had to do damage control. Remind me never again to give them time off at the same time.”

Emma laughs. “Yeah, you know that’s not an option.”

He scowls. “Why, again, did I take them on?”

“Because your best friends asked you to not let them wander out in the wild wild world?” Emma smirks.

“Damn nepotism,” Jeremy complains, but only half-heartedly, then smiles. “But, they are good at their jobs, which is why their absence is sorely felt,” he adds.

“They’ll be back on Wednesday,” Emma points out. “By the way, Maggie called to make sure we’re coming over for the 4th.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went with Jeremy/Emma again, because I just love them, okay? 
> 
> Please, do not hesitate to drop a comment, those are always welcome.


	13. Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ETA: Just FYI, in case you overlooked the newest relationship tag, this chapter features Bass/Rachel, because I've been made aware it was a rather unpleasant surprise. (I know canon is yucky, but I choose to ignore those parts. No yuckiness in my take on it, though, unless the idea itself squicks you, hence, extra warning.)

Rachel keeps nodding and smiling, although she half-tuned out the incessant droning of her conversational partner five minutes ago, as she spots Bass making his way across the ballroom, stopping to exchange a few words with this or that person on the way. 

“Rachel,” Bass greets her. “Secretary Doyle,” he flashes her companion a smile, the one he reserves for the people he doesn’t like.

“General Monroe,” the man in question returns. “I…”

“Will you excuse us,” Bass interrupts him before he can launch into a monologue, “I promised Dr. Matheson a dance.”

“Oh, of course. General. Mrs. Matheson, it was a pleasure…”

“Likewise,” Rachel lies, giving him a tight smile as Bass nods his leave.

“Thanks,” Rachel whispers when they are finally safely on the dancefloor. “If I had to listen to that weasel one more minute, I’d stab him with his own pen.”

Bass laughs quietly. “You’re welcome.”

“Maybe Julia will finish the task,” he remarks in a moment, making a turn so Rachel can see Doyle now engaged in conversation with the lady in question. Julia has a bright smile plastered on her face, but the chill in her eyes could probably freeze a few blocks’ radius. She and Julia often don’t see eye to eye, but in this case they are in perfect accord.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Rachel confesses, relaxing in Bass’s arms as he steers them across the dancefloor, mindful to avoid people they do absolutely not want to be get caught up with until they end up at the side of the ballroom just as the song slowly fades out.

“I think we’ve mingled enough that we can leave without looking rude. What do you say?” Bass suggests.

“Yes, please,” Rachel agrees, fast.

It takes them ten more minutes to say their goodbyes, but then they are at last in the blissfully chill and quiet darkness outside, and Rachel slides into the car seat with a sigh, kicking off her heels.

Bass gets into the driver’s seat, giving her a much warmer smile that she has seen all evening. “By the way, you look stunning, if I forgot to mention before,” he says, before pulling off.

“Why, thank you.” Rachel smiles. “You don’t look so bad yourself, if I may say so, general,” she returns, giving him a once-over.

Bass laughs. “Well, look your fill. I’ve got two ever-so-polite hints that I should resign just tonight,” he says.

Rachel shakes her head in disapproval, then gives him a coy look. “Well, I was thinking about getting you out of the uniform a bit sooner than that.”

“Really?” Bass grins without turning his attention from the road. “And how are you going to accomplish that?”

Rachel giggles. “Oh, I’ll think of something. Just you wait.”

She watches with satisfaction as Bass swallows, his voice a little rough when he speaks, “Well, let me get us home, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been looking forward to come to this point for ages. What do you think? 
> 
> I know Bass/Rachel is rather unpopular, so I won't blame you if you run away, now that I put my cards on the table, but I really like them in certain aspects. I have a few non-AU headcanons I haven't managed to write (yet?), but I grabbed the opportunity to at least write them somewhere. 
> 
> Don't hesitate to share your thoughts, comments are always welcome.


	14. Sleep

“Hey!” Charlie protests into the pillow as Connor collapses on the bed, jostling her.

“You know, Charlie wasn’t the only one working like a Trojan these days,” Connor remarks. “I could use a massage, too.”

_They overhauled Grandpa's place in matter of days to close it up – temporarily. Grandpa had let the neighbours know that he would be spending the summer close to his daughter and grandchildren and arranged it with a colleague from the neighbouring town to take over his patients for the summer, announcing to return when the weather got milder to make more permanent arrangements._

_With that done, they travelled home on what had to be one of the hottest day of the summer so far. Danny picked them up at the airport and took over getting Grandpa settled in a not too expensive hotel near Mom's place while both Charlie and Connor rushed straight to work to catch up on urgent matters and fill in Jeremy and came back to Charlie's place only to shower and crash._

“Wait your turn,” Charlie mumbles.

“Who said I was your personal masseuse,” Jason grumbles, but without any real bite to it.

“I’ll pay you back, later,” Charlie promises at the same time as Connor says, “We’ll make it worth your while.”

She can’t see Jason, but she can imagine him almost blushing, maybe trying to hide one of his goofy smiles as Connor chuckles and she laughs into the pillow, cutting herself off with a moan as Jason’s fingers dig into an especially tough knot on her back.

“Christ, Charlie,” Jason mutters in a strangled voice.

Charlie hums, grinning, while Connor comments on the obscenity of her moaning just when she does it again as Jason hits another sore spot. She tunes out the insinuations on who’ll have to jerk off in the shower and who can help with that as Jason’s hands relieve the tension and pain in her body inch by inch and lets herself drift off to sleep.  

She wakes up in the dark sometime later feeling a lot less exhausted than before to Jason’s panicked breathing, his eyes wide open. She carefully finds his hand, asking softly, “Nightmare?”

He swallows, nodding. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you up,” he whispers.

“It’s not your fault,” she tells him firmly and curls around him, and after a while she senses him calm down, so she schools her voice to innocence and enquires, “So, did you guys sort out the massages and stuff?”

Jason turns to her. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He smirks.

“Oh, she would,” Connor mumbles sleepily from the other side. “But we’re _not telling her_ ,” he drawls in the manner that makes her pussy ache even as her hand travels down Jason’s torso.

She clears her throat, but her reply still sounds rough, “Well, I’m ready to pay off my debt now”

“Are you?” Jason breathes, before kissing her as Connor’s hand sneaks between her thighs, and she can only hum her acquiescence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was a longer break than I intended. Between the damn summer still going on and trying to also write other things, time just flies.
> 
> Do tell me what you think, comments are always welcome.


	15. Russian Roulette

Bass rubs his face with his hands, sighing.

It is late on Saturday night, and they have been at this for the better part of the last two days – so much for the fourth of July – running options and contingency plans, because now the players have been revealed and seem ready to make a move. Perhaps they have amped up the schedule, suspecting of being suspected. Judging by the continuous pressure on all sides, on him and Foster, Ben and Rachel and their co-workers, using Gene… a storm is coming, and fast.

If they are going to do something about it, it has to be now, before they miss the opportunity.

This is it. End of all. It is just a question of for whom.

“If things go awry…” Bass speaks up.

(They may as well. It is like a Russian roulette: all or nothing. If only one thing goes wrong, if they’re caught at sabotaging those damn Patriots’ plans, they are probably going to end up dead or worse.)

Bass shakes his head as everyone looks at him, expectantly. “I just wanna thank you,” he says.

“For what?” Miles scoffs, anxious to dismiss what Bass is saying, what he is about to say. Not that Bass can blame him. There are dark shadows under his eyes, and even a rested, good-mood Miles would rather run for the hills than deal with emotions on an average day. People mistake it for not caring, but Bass knows better: it is because he feels too much that Miles runs.

He has to clear his throat in face of a few now alarmed looks, before he elaborates.

“For this,” he says, gesturing around the room. “For being my family. If it wasn’t for you all, I would’ve had nothing –” Tears prick in the corner of his eyes as he remembers the families he lost. “I appreciate you sticking up with me, despite, you know.”

He pauses, hanging his head as he alludes to the elephant in the room, although by now nobody particularly cares anymore. He sees a few wry smiles when he dares glance around: Rachel’s, Ben’s, Miles’.

“I just wanted to say how much it means to me, in case we don’t make it. I don’t know what I’d do without all of you,” he finishes.

“Jesus, Bass. Of course.” Miles reaches over, patting his back, his fingers rubbing Bass’ neck before he withdraws his hand.

“Don’t mention it,” says Ben.

There are non-committal, agreeing sounds all around, even though accompanied by some eye-rolling and muttering. (“Such a sap,” someone – Bass is pretty sure it is Duncan – mutters under their breath.) 

Bass exhales out loud.

“I say we call it a night,” Jeremy suggests after a beat. “And let’s not think of this tomorrow. We’ve gone through everything over and over… Let’s just… relax, barbecue, and then, next week, what happens, happens.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Is Bass too sappy? Are the Mathesons (Bass included in the term, obviously) too fucked up with their crisscrossed relationships? Where is Miles getting all the money for plane tickets every fortnight? ~~(Shh: some family and 'family' members are loaded, so maybe they pitch in, since his input and general surliness would be sorely missed, had he been unable to attend the plotting sessions.)~~
> 
> Comments are always welcome.


End file.
